


Tragedy is not the end

by star1995star



Series: Tragedy is not the end [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter hurt, Peter injured, Tony Needs a Hug, tony distressed, will add tags later...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-11-06 04:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17932700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star1995star/pseuds/star1995star
Summary: He finally looked at his body and ultimately understood why everything in him hurt and nothing did as well. Why there was an emptiness to him.How could it be gone? It can’t be gone.Peter realised then he did indeed die that night. That night in the warehouse and he was now in hell.  His own personal hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This series takes places where Peter is crushed by the building in Spiderman:homecoming. The idea came from spideyyourboy (https://spideyyourboy.tumblr.com/post/182994246462/let-me-come-to-you-with-this-highly-ansgtwhump-au) where Peter loses some limbs in the collapse.  
> This is what I've started so far from the concept.  
> I haven't written in years so please be kind.  
> Leave comments and kudos.

“Help!!!... Please someone help anyone!” Peter screamed at the top of his lungs. “Hey, please. I'm down here. I'm down here. I'm stuck.” Peter gasped for breath He couldn’t move. The weight of the concrete heavy on his back. Rubble, metal and water surrounding him. Peter cried out again.  
Pleading. Pleading for anyone to hear his cries.  
He looked down at his reflecting in the puddle below him. Nothing but a reflection of his bleeding face and his homemade Spiderman mask looking back at him. Droplets of water and blood falling into the puddle causing it to ripple.  
If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it.  
What if Mr Stark was right? Peter considered as he stared. Eyes full of fear and tears. Maybe he was nothing.  
No! He could do this he was more than the suit. He was Spiderman before he had the suit and he was still Spiderman now. He had a bad guy to stop. His prom dates father at that.  
“Come on, Peter.  
Come on, Spider-Man.  
Come on, Spider-Man.” He chanted over and over to himself as he tried to push the concrete off his back. As he tried to move. Pain pierced from him all over his shoulders and arms, causing him to unable to budge. He tried to move his legs to see if he could somehow slip out.  
He couldn’t feel his legs. Why couldn’t he feel his legs? What was wrong?  
“Help!! Some one! Anyone! Mr Stark??” Peter screamed again praying to god someone could hear him. He knew it was useless no one knew he was here. No one could here him scream under all this rubble. He tried to turn his head to see why he couldn’t feel his legs, only to see what was causing his arm so much pain.  
He couldn’t move his arm. Pierced straight through with an iron rob. Sliced open, basically hanging off. Blood was pouring everywhere, and it was finally starting to catch up with him. His heightened healing not able to work fast enough for his injuries at hand.  
Peter knew what was happening. The light round his eyes stated to go dark as black patches crossed his vision. No energy left to attempt to push the slabs against him anymore Peter gave in to his fate.  
He had failed. Vulture had got away with Mr Starks stuff and there was no one to stop him. He was never going to be an avenger now. He was never going to turn 16. Never actually get his driving license or eat Thai food with Aunt May again…. Aunt May... She’s going to be all on her own. She’s going to wonder what happened. Why he never made it to the dance and why he never made it home that night. She’s going to hate him for lying to her. The guilt of what he was leaving behind him what he was going to do crushed him more then the weight surrounding him.  
“Aunt May…. I’m so sorry.” Peter whispered out to the destroyed warehouse as he let sleep take over as he let his eyes slide close no longer able to fight it off anymore. No longer able to shout or cry in anyway….

***  
Everything felt fuzzy, tingly. Nothing hurt anymore. There was a nice calming feeling hanging over peter. He didn’t want to open his eyes. This feeling was a nice one. Fuzzy and tingly like he couldn’t really feel anything at all but everything at the same time. He knew he must be dead if he couldn’t feel any pain anymore. He didn’t want to open his eyes to the world around him. He didn’t want to find out where he ended up. He aimed to do so much good in his life to help the little guy to save those in need, but had he done enough to get into the good place. Or was he going to the other one. He tried to think about that but couldn’t help it. Surely if he hadn’t done enough good to end up in the good place, he would be in a lot of pain right now being tortured in some way.  
He refused to open his eyes, putting of the unimaginable. The longer he could put it off the better. he wasn’t ready to face his final fate. However, the harder he tried to keep his eyes closed the harder it became. Whispered voices came closer, louder and his sense of smell returned. Sharp clinical chemicals sat in his nose. Smelled clean, too clean. It made him want to gag. He must have made a noise of some sort as the whispered voices turned to address him.  
“Peter? Pete are you awake?” he couldn’t avoid his fate any more. Time to find out if he was going to be reconnected with his parents and uncle or be punished for failing them in his previous life.  
Peter let his eyes open. It was bright too bright. The light to sharp on his eyes. Everything to white. He wanted to roll over and hid from the blinding lights but was unable to move his body from it.  
He turned his head away from the ceiling trying to look down, anywhere from the brightness.  
“Kid? You there?” Peter turned his head to the sound of the voice. It was a voice he knows. He recognized. A voice from who he idolized.  
“M.. Mr Stark?” His voice crocked out hoarsely. His throat felt so dry.  
“Hey, kid. Glad to see you awake. Water?” Peter gave the tinniest nob of his head. Mr stark held up a bottle of water to Peters lips placing a straw between them for he could get a sip. What was Mr stark doing here? He can’t have died as well, could he? Unless… unless… Where actually was here? What happening?  
Vulture… stark industries… the building… the events slowly came back to him. Being trapped. Unable to move. Peters breathing speed up as the feelings of being trapped started to surround him. His chest tightened. He couldn’t catch his breath.  
“wow hey, kid. Your okay. Your safe now. I’m here.” Tony rested an arm on Peter’s shoulder making peter look him in the face. Making him focus on the man in front of him. “breathe. Look at me.” and Peter did. Peter really looked at him. Tony Stark stood in fount of him with heavy bagged dark purple bags under his eyes, week old stubble on his face, his famous goatee nowhere in sight. The man looked unwashed and unslept.  
“I’m sorry” Peter squeaked out, his voice breaking. “I tried to stop him. I tried to save your stuff but I failed. I’m sorry Mr stark for letting you down. Did you manage to get Vulture, Mr Stark?”  
“That’s not important Pete. Don’t worry about that now. The main thing is you are alive and here.”  
“But…” peters voice trailed off as Mr Stark hushed him from continuing what he was going to say. Peter turned his head away taken in the room. He was in a bright white room, it stank of cleaning products and hospital. There were machines beeping away more then he knew what they did. He spotted a sofa in the corner where he could see his Aunt May passed out fast asleep with her long hair flowing off the edge and she was wrapped in a blanket. “Aunt May…” he whispered out gentle. He tried to reposition himself to get a better look at her. He couldn’t seem to budge.  
“wow let me give you a hand. she’s not long asleep but I can wake her if you like.” Mr stark leaned Peter forward placing a pillow behind his head lifting him up a bit further.  
“no. let her rest. She looks tired.” Peter grunted as they moved. The fuzzy feeling was starting to almost be gone all together now, the longer he was awake. Pain was returning to his body. He supposed it was time to take a look at the damage and look at himself even though he wanted to put it off. Considering his healing he shouldn’t be able to feel much if he was nearly healed. But he couldn’t pin point just one point the pain radiated from, it was everywhere. This couldn’t be a good sign unless he had just left the building and arrived here. He had to look eventually.  
Peter finally turned his head away from Aunt May and then away from Mr Stark. Finally turning to look at himself.  
“Wow, wow, wow kid.” Mr stark reached out turning Peters face back towards him, stopping peter from looking. Tony’s voice had been too gentle too kind this whole time. It wasn’t right. The last time he had seen this man, he had shouted at him, taking away his suit. Scolded him for being a child. “Don’t look yet.” Tony held Peters head facing him, pleading with him and stoked his soft brown curls. It was so unchartistic for the billionaire. His features soft and sad. He looked almost broken.  
“Why” Peter said gentle.  
“You may get a fright. Its going to look bad. Real bad kid. But we are working on it and we are going to fix you right up. However, I need you stay calm. You’re still healing, its been a slow process. You haven’t been healing as fast as we thought. We don’t want to brake open any of the wounds or pull the stitches.”  
Peter pulled his eyes together now very confused. What did he mean by still healing, a slow process? Another thought stuck him before he could turn to see what damage was done. As if afraid to ask Peter breathed “how long have I been here?”  
Peter never did get his answer and if he did he never heard Mr stark speak. He finally looked at his body and ultimately understood why everything in him hurt and nothing did as well. Why there was an emptiness to him.  
How could it be gone? It can’t be gone.  
Peter realised then he did indeed die that night. That night in the warehouse and he was now in hell. His own personal hell. He looked at his limbs. Or well… lack of limbs. His left leg was gone but that wasn’t the worst of it. His right arm was absent also. They were just gone. Heaven didn’t exist. He hadn’t been that lucky to re-joined with his parted family. Peter knew that now as he realised, he was now in his own hell.  
Peter couldn’t hear anything around him. He couldn’t stop staring at the empty spaces before him. Trying to reach out to the emptiness. Pain returned as he felt the absence of what was no longer there. He must have been freaking out he didn’t know anymore. People rushed all around him as alarms and buzzers going off. Ringing in his ears. May’s face appeared before him trying to calm him down before a nurse showed up beside him injecting him with some sedatives making him fall asleep almost instantly. 

***

The next time Peter woke. He woke to shout and screaming. His eyes shot open instantly, with the insult of his senses. His hearing dealing up far too high. The culprits who had woke him were standing at the end of his room. He was in the same white room as earlier.  
“No amount of money you can throw at us can fix this, Stark!” May stood scream at Mr Stark. Finger pointing at his chest. To Peters surprise Tony didn’t respond and just lowered his head. Peter couldn’t place the expression on the man’s face. Guilt, shame? The look on May was unsettling as well never had she been so fuming in all the time Peter had known her. The closer he could recoil May looking like that was when he almost ran out on the road when he was seven, when he thought he had seen his parents across the street after they died.  
“You-!”  
“Ahh… Loud.” Peter mumbled at them, causing them before to jump and turn to him.  
“Peter. Sweetie I’m sorry, we woke you. I’m here honey, I'm right here.” May came straight over planting kissing on his head and soothing him, rabbling away. “You’re okay. We’re okay” she rambled to him wiping tears away from her eyes. She looked tired. She always looked tired with the double shifts at work but this was different tired on her face. “how are you feeling honey?”  
Peter tried to speak but nothing came out, nothing but a whimper. He looked towards Mr stark, he didn’t know what his face revealed but the man standing in front of him had remorse written all over him. It was not fitting on Mr stark Peter though. He couldn’t understand why he would even let May scream at him like she had. It didn’t make sense. Peter tried to turn shield his eyes from the lights from the noises around him. He could hear the buzzing in the lights, the heart rates of the people around him the breathing of the people waiting out side the room waiting to get it. Peter tried to lift his arms to cover his head, cover his ears and block it out. Block it all out. His arms wouldn’t move Peter stared confused. Stared at Mr Stark. Everything was to much the noises, the smells and lights. His head began spinning. Peter looked at the only person in the room who might understand. trying to muster together his voice when he whispered. “eleven…” confusing flicked behind the mans’ eyes before recognition took place.  
“Is it dialed up Peter?” Peter gave the slightest Nod to his head as a tear slipped from the corner of his eyes. He closed his eye again and he heard someone coming into the room and May asking what sounded very load to him but most likely was normal tune what was wrong. What eleven meant. Peter slipped back into unconsciousness as warm liquid flowed through his veins, taking him to a dreamless sleep before he could think to hard to responding to her or think about why she was shouting at Mister Stark.


	2. UPDATE!!

Hey everyone,  
I havent forgotten about this story, i think about it every single day. Ive just had a lot going on lately (mentally and physicaly) and everytime i go to write i cant seem to figure out what to put down. ive writtine chapters that are to come later on and written the last paragraph i just cant seem to do the next one. 

Lots of ideas but lots of writers bloke with no one to bounce ideas off of. 

What im saying is i will be back (hopefully sooner rather than later). 

Sorry for the wait. 

Maybe i should write a plan out to get a better idea, idk. 

See you all soon.

Come shout at me on tumbler. (or even just talk/message me) - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/autisticbabynurse

P.S i wrote a poem or two though if anyone is interested in reading it?

**Author's Note:**

> Guys be honest. is it worth contiuing i have lots of stuff to follow. this is just the start. thanks for reading.  
> WIll be back to edit etc


End file.
